


i'd find you in any universe

by londer



Category: Dimension 20
Genre: Campaign 01 Season 01: Fantasy High Freshman Year (Dimension 20), Campaign 01 Season 02: Fantasy High Sophomore Year (Dimension 20), Campaign 03: The Unsleeping City, Campaign 05: A Crown of Candy, Drabbles, I'm not going to tag every pairing/character here because we'd be here all day, Sort of a grab bag of topics and people, everything's G/T rated
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-12
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:54:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25187518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/londer/pseuds/londer
Summary: Compilation of all my tumblr prompt drabbles/ficlets
Comments: 2
Kudos: 28





	1. acoc prompt meme

**Author's Note:**

> chapters are grouped by when i was writing them / the prompt meme that i used to write them

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> send two characters + rolled for a prompt

**theo and lapin - high school**

"Get your players off the field, Gumbar,” Lapin says and he’s dangerously close to Theo. 

“We have the football field booked until 6:30, Cadbury,” Theo retorts, planting his feet and folding his arms to look down at Lapin. “It’s 6:15. The band is more than welcome to it when we’re finished.” A few football players behind Theo are snickering and he shoots them a dirty look. “We still have fifteen minutes of practice. Why aren’t you running?” They look a little abashed and start up on their suicides again. 

“You aren’t even playing football right now,” Lapin says, regarding the running players with disgust. He tilts his head coyly and his voice is honey-sweet. There’s a few snickers from the early band kids who are gathered behind him on the path into the field. “Surely this can be done on the track. Or in the parking lot." 

"Oh, and the band uses the field to play real football? Surely it can be done on the track? Or in the parking lot?” Theo’s just as sweet back, biting at mean. He tucks a stray lock of Lapin’s hair behind his ear. 

Lapin glowers at him. “We’re on the field at 6:30 and not a minute later." 

"As I said. Fine by us. We’ll be out of the way by then.” He plants a kiss on his husband’s cheek and turns to head back to the team. “I’ll see you at home tonight. TEAM! HUDDLE UP!" 

**ruby, jet, saccharina - ghosts / ghost hunters**

"Welcome back to _Ghost Mysteries_. This is the Samaritan Estate," Saccharina says to the camera. It's nearly sundown and she and Ruby are standing on the front lawn before the sprawling gothic mansion. "It's been abandoned since 1934. The previous owners all went mysteriously missing, and were never found alive or dead, but locals report strange noises, including screams and chanting, and bright lights flicking on and off when there's never been electricity to the house. Tonight, we'll be spending the night to try and make contact with whoever might be haunting the estate." 

"Teenagers," Ruby says dryly. "Local teens with flashlights and too much time on their hands." It's their shtick for the show - Saccharina's the true believer who freaks out at the slightest noise and Ruby's the realist who never flinches or reacts when anything supernatural happens. 

And Jet's the dead one, haunting her sisters and doing all the practical effects. She slams the front door of the mansion open. Saccharina squeals in delight, and Ruby rolls her eyes. Jet's really on the nose sometimes. "It's windy," she says to the camera. "Let's go inside." 

The inside is cobwebby and musty, with the distinct smell of rot. The camera crew follows them as they poke around the mansion. Saccharina finds a horrible little doll and Jet makes the eyes blink. 

"Doll's eyes blink sometimes," Ruby says. The baby doll waves at her. "'Rina, I can see you moving the arm, don't even try." 

"I'm not!" Saccharina protests, and the footage is definitely at a good angle to make it hard to prove one way or the other if it was her or Jet. 

They set up in the living room for the night. "If there's anything here with us, please send us a sign!" Saccharina says loudly and dramatically. "We're going to be really quiet so we can hear you now." 

" _...deez_ …" comes over the recorder and Saccharina lets her eyes go huge for the cameras and Ruby tries not to laugh or smile because it's so classically Jet. 

"These what?" Saccharina asks. "These what! If you're out there! We can here you! Tell us!"

" _nuts_ "

**Liam, ruby, primsy - 9 - spilled coffee on a stranger**

Liam's half asleep and really not looking where he's going when he leaves the dining hall on his way to his 8:30 stats class. He slams into something warm and solid, which wakes him up enough to see that he's walked directly into Primsy Coldbottle and dumped his entire thermos of coffee all over her blouse. They stare at each other, both completely startled and confused.

"Hey, what the fuck," Ruby - Primsy's _girlfriend, fuck_ \- is standing right behind her. "Watch where you're going, asshole." 

"Oh shit-" Liam says, because her shirt is light pink and coffee stains are not going to come out of it easily. "I'm so sorry, oh, god, here - " He grabs a fistful of tissues from the dispenser next to the door and offers them to her.

"Ow," Primsy says, peeling her shirt away from her skin and taking some of the napkins to start dabbing at her front. "I'll be alright, I don't think it was hot enough to burn me." 

"I'm really sorry," Liam says and he really truly is, he feels terrible about this, Primsy's one of the nicest people on campus and he just dumped coffee all over her.

"You should be," Ruby says darkly from behind Primsy, gives him a glare. She also grabs a clump of napkins for Primsy. "C'mon, babe. Let's go get you cleaned up." 

**Theo and gooey - 16 - baker/coffeeshop au**

He gets up at four to go in to work the bakery shift at _Saccharina's Sweets_. It's early and the dawn light is gray and muted, but the kitchen is warm and the routine is familiar. He flicks on the ovens and turns out the overnight rises and sets to kneading. Breads and muffins go in first, then he does the day's cookies from the big tubs of dough in the fridge. They're running low on double chocolate chip and he leaves a note for Liam, who's doing the overnight prep today. 

Theo has her order waiting for her when she comes in, the same as it is every morning. Large coffee, two milks, one sugar, one pump hazelnut syrup, a homemade dog treat, and half a muffin, toasted but a little extra so that the chips are gooey. It's how he identifies her from the other regulars' orders - he doesn't know her name, just knows that she wants it an extra minute on the griddle, just this side of burnt. Gooey's not the only regular, but she's the only one who comes in during Theo's asscrack of dawn shift.

She arrives right at 7:05 like she always does, and he hears the clink of her mastiff's leash around the pole outside and the sad little whimper from the dog. The thing's enormous and it always cries a little bit when she leaves him outside for just a few minutes. Theo doesn't know how she manages to leave him alone to go to work. 

"Morning," he says, slides her order over the counter to her. The muffin bag is a little sweaty from its own heat. She's pleasantly flushed and a little sweaty. "Good run?" 

"Yes, thank you," Gooey says, hands him a ten. He makes her change and she dumps it all into the tip jar. Same old routine. 

  
  


**Liam, ruby, jet - 8 - scruffy starship smugglers**

Jet runs through a gritty alley towards the hoverport where Liam and Ruby are waiting for her. It’s always her running and the alleys are always gritty and yep, there’s the classic burst of laser fire hot on her heels. She boulders over a chain-link fence and dodges a robomech who’s working on a little starfighter before diving into the _Preston_ ’s hold. Ruby takes off as soon as she’s inside and Jet whams the button to seal the airlock as they screech away from the planet’s surface. She can feel the burping buzz of the ship’s guns as Liam returns fire on their enemies on the ground. 

She takes a minute sitting on the airlock floor to catch her breath before heading up to help Liam in the turrets to ease their escape. Ruby gets them out of atmos and then kicks up a wormhole to spit them on the other side of the cluster. It’ll be nearly impossible for anyone from B.U.L.B. to track them. 

The strategy room is a mess of old coffee mugs and piles of paper and magno boards with evidence mapped across them. Everything in here is damning, very damning, of Pontifex Brassica and her work as chairperson of B.U.L.B.. It’s enough to take her out in any civil court in the sector, except for how she has all the judges and juries in her pockets. So SPFCorp is building a file and planning an attack and their timeline just got sped up by a _lot_ after the loss of the _Castle Candy_ moonbase. 

"It's the Ramseyan Principle," Jet says without preamble when Liam and Ruby arrive. They're safely stowed in the magnetosphere of a small uninhabited moon, out of reach of any sensor arrays, and Jet has spread out all the findings she _liberated_ across the boards, adding evidence where it fits. "It's the Ramseyan Principle. The last barrier to breaking speed of light travel. There's a scientist, Dr. Rocks, who thinks it can be done. They're hunting her, but she's evaded them so far." 

"So we beat them to her?" Ruby says, running her thumb down one of the inventories newly affixed to the board. "That's gonna be fucking hard." 

Liam's got his head buried in a tablet. "Rocks, huh. Do we think she's related to the other Rocks? Like General Rocks from the United Fleet or - wait. Isn't there a Rocks who _works_ for B.U.L.B.?" 

"There is! Computer, show file on Primogen Citrina Rocks." The ship's computer blips and a small holo of the Primogen appears above the table. "She's also related to General Rocks, and there's other siblings too, including one with a nuclear physics Ph.D.!" 

" _Saints_ ," Ruby says, leaning back in her chair. "I feel like we don't appreciate not knowing anything about our parents enough. Imagine having to deal with extended family drama like _that_."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you can find me on tumblr [here](https://myclericalromance.tumblr.com)


	2. fantasy high AU prompts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> fantasy high prompts - send an au, i'll roll for 2 characters

**cyberpunk - Tracker and Adaine**

Tracker guns the engine and they rip up the highway, ion engines slamming them through the thin Martian air. The cop cars chasing them are fading into the distance as the suped-up engines in the _Hangman_ jet them across the desert towards the launch pad.

The Oracle sits in the passenger seat clutching at a very round frog. It seemed to be an awful shock to her system to suddenly get unplugged from Bastion City. Twenty years as the neural interface for an entire city wasn’t something that she was going to recover easily from. 

“Alright, miss?” Tracker asks her, switches over to autopilot so she can grab the medkit from the glove box. The Oracle is bleeding from the palms of her hands where Tracker had to rip the conduits out of their sockets when the security lockdown had latched them in. 

“Who-” her voice is garbled. She’s probably never used it before. “What’s going on?" 

"My name is Tracker O'Shaughnessey,” Tracker says as she efficiently bandages Adaine’s palms, flashes a light into her eyes, takes her pulse. “I’m a retrieval specialist for the Seacaster Corporation. I was hired to free you from the mainframe of Bastion City." 

"Bastion City!” The Oracle jolts in her seat, looks out the viewport to the back, starts to scrabble at the door’s latches. “No, you can’t, they’ll-they’ll die without me!" 

"Miss,” Tracker says, grabs her wrists to keep her from trying to escape. “Miss, you were kidnapped by them almost twenty years ago and forced to serve as the internal network for the city. We _freed_ you." 

The Oracle just stares at her with blank, horrified eyes. "The entire city’s systems were keyed into me - don’t you understand, there are no manual controls to _anything_ , we have to -" 

She’s cut off by the sonic boom as the bubble around Bastion City splits and crumbles, the internal pressure no longer regulated by her mind. 

**classic high fantasy - Aelwyn and Ayda**

Aelwyn wipes the grime away from her eyes as it begins to drip from her sweaty forehead. They’ve been travelling through the forests on the borderlands towards Bastion Citadel for weeks now. Her feet are bandaged tightly against the growing blisters and they’re running low on supplies. 

Ayda - if that’s even her real name - walks beside her. She hasn’t said a word in days now, just treks on so quickly that Aelwyn can barely keep apace with her. Ayda is single-minded in her mission but it’s not like Aelwyn has nothing at stake here. The sorcerers who kidnapped Ayda’s lover also took Aelwyn’s sister, part of some dark raid on the young people of Solace. She would have gone (on this possibly suicidal rescue mission) for Adaine’s sake, but the hefty bounty the Council of Stars set on their safe return doesn’t hurt.

They crest a tall hill and pause for just a moment. Aelwyn hopes to see the dizzying spires the orc lords told them to expect at Bastion, but there’s just a sleepy little village. 

“We cannot trust them,” Ayda says immediately, turns to head deeper into the woods. 

“We’re low on supplies,” Aelwyn says and starts down the hill without looking back. “And I want a hot meal and a real bed tonight." 

"This is foolish,” Ayda says stubbornly and Aelwyn turns to glare at her. “We should journey on. There are still many hours of daylight ahead of us and we can cover much ground in that time." 

"We need to rest,” Aelwyn says, winces at how it comes out whiny. “Even you can’t argue we’re more effective if we’re rested and healed up.” Ayda glares back at her. “Plus who knows, they might have a better map we can use to get us through the mountains quicker. Local folk always know about secret passes and tunnels and such.” She turns and continues to stumble down the hill towards the village and hears the crunch of grass as Ayda sees sense and follows her.

**university library au: gorgug & free space (zelda)(it’s gotta be zelda come ON)**

“Um, hey,” a voice says from the other side of the front desk. Gorgug looks up from the paper he was working on and freezes. Zelda Donovan, the really pretty girl who sits two rows down and three seats over from him in intro to ecology, is standing there looking at him with big nervous eyes. 

“Hi,” he says, struck dumb by how cute she looks in a little ponytail and a giant gray sweater. “Uh. How can I help you?" 

"I’m having trouble finding a book,” she says, passes him a piece of paper with the call number written on it. “The catalog says it should be here, but I can’t figure out how to get to it.”

He nods, gets up from the desk. “Library of Congress style is hard to navigate if you’re not used to it.” He nods to Ragh, who’s the shift supervisor, and ducks under the desk flap to go help her. “The letters are the section, then the books should be in order by the number and decimal." 

"Yeah,” she says, and oh, she’s hurrying to follow him. He slows his pace so they can walk to the elevators together. “I just. I don’t know. Couldn’t find it." 

"It’s really no problem to help,” he says. “PA is on the fifth and sixth floors, 3975 is going to be on the fifth. A2 is a version number. Is this a specific translation?" 

"It’s the Vellacott Bacchae,” she says. “You know, women going crazy in the woods, ahh, so wild." 

He nods. They find the shelf and it’s there, just on a high shelf that she probably couldn’t see. "Here you go,” he says, grabs it and hands it to her before sliding the shelf support to close the gap.

“Thanks,” she says, smiles at him and his heart flip-flops a little bit. “It was really sweet of you to help me out. I’ll see you in ecology on Monday?”

**ACOC AU: gorgug, bill and/or hallariel**

The village burns in the distance as Gorgug stumbles away crying, the air thick with the stink of burning flesh. Ceresian soldiers had invaded from the east, part of their military campaign to take the coasts and cut off the Dairy Islands. He stumbles down the hill and sinks into the wet reeds at the bottom of the hill, splashes into the shallows of the milky sea. His parents are dead, his village his burned, there is nothing on this continent but war and fear. Gorgug falls into the water face first, but a hand catches him by the scruff of his shirt. 

“Who are ye, lad?” A voice asks as he’s hoisted to his feet. He’s met with the sight of a grizzled Dairy Island man missing an eye. There’s a small rowboat a little way up the shoreline with a few sailors in it. “Do ye come from the town?” Gorgug just stares at him blankly. The man sighs and heaves him over his shoulder, slodges through the water and drops him into the boat. 

They row out to sea. Gorgug stares up at the smoke-stained sky from the bottom of the boat. A ship intercepts them and they climb aboard, Gorgug only moving when prompted. A small woman gives him a blanket and a cup of stew, which he promptly vomits over the edge, the stink of burning people still hot in his throat. 

“Bill Seacaster,” the man says, joins him on the railing and pats his back as he chokes. “I’m sorry for your loss, my boy. The world is a terrible place these days. There’s room aboard ship for ye, if you’d like to join my crew. If not, we’ll drop ye when we get close enough to send ye ashore near Sirloin.”

Gorgug just stares out at the water. Bill pats him on the back and leaves to go belowdecks. “I’ll stay.” Gorgug says, and Bill stops, walks back to the railing. 

“It won’t be easy.” 

“I know,” Gorgug says, and he does, really, knows in his gut that there will be long years ahead of blistered hands and sleepless nights and battles where he will watch more people die. “I want to kill them.” All of them. Every damn Ceresian involved in the death of his family, his friends, every bread motherfucker who signed troop orders and supply requisitions. It burns in his chest like a cough.

Bill nods. “Then we’ll be glad to have ye.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you can find me on tumblr [here](https://myclericalromance.tumblr.com)


	3. rarepair asks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> truly some rarepairs that i did not even know people considered wow

**tuc - emiko x sofia**

Ricky's friend Sofia is really hot and it's frankly pretty inconsiderate of him to not put any effort into setting her and Emiko up, especially after all the work she did trying to find him someone. It's fine. Emiko doesn't sulk about it or make pointed comments about wanting to meet up with his friends more often. 

Thank god for Esther. Kingston invites Emiko over for dinner and the whole little group is there to eat Indian takeout and watch the Yankees-Mets game on TV. Esther gives her a hug in the kitchen when she arrives. Normally she doesn't change out of her scrubs into anything but sweats after her shifts, but she took the time to put on real jeans and a top. She's grateful for the effort because Sofia's standing  _ right there _ in a short denim skirt and white blouse. She looks really good. Really really good. Her arm muscles? Wow. 

Emiko lets Esther catch her looking at Sofia, and then they have a little wordless conversation of eye contact, lifted eyebrows, and meaningful glances. "Ohh," Esther says, nods with a pleased little smile. "I got you." She turns to Sof. "Sof, come sit with me and Em to eat!" 

She's not sure how Esther manages it, but she finagles it so Emiko and Sofia end up curled into the same recliner balancing plates of curry on their laps. And Emiko can  _ definitely _ work with this. 

**acoc - lapin x calroy**

"Chancellor," Calroy says from behind him, voice echoing in the empty hollows of the cathedral. Lapin rises from where he was kneeling before the altar. "I hope I'm not interrupting." 

"My daily devotions," Lapin says. Calroy doesn't come to the chapel unless he wants something. There is a letter in Lapin's office, tucked into a hollowed floorboard, from Pontifex Brassica asking about the twins' religious aptitudes. He doesn't quite know what to do about it yet, but the clock is slowly but surely running down on the time for him to reply. She doesn't say it in so many words, but Belizabeth would like it very much if Ruby Rocks took after her aunt Citrina and swore to holy orders. "Newly finished. What ails you, Lord Cruller?" 

"A sickness of the heart," Cal says. His smile is wicked and leering as he steps into Lapin's space. "My mind seeks the Bulb, but my heart would give worship elsewhere." 

"False idols are traps laid by the Hungry One," Lapin says, voice neutral. Cal barely comes up to his chin, and his face is tipped back to look up at Lapin as his hands clasp at the front of Lapin's primogen's robes. "Perhaps some private study with me will help you...clear your mind of these distractions." It will, at least, be a welcome diversion for Lapin from his duties to Bulb and country.

Cal's eyes glitter in the rainbow light of the midday Bulb through the stained candyglass windows of the cathedral. He licks his lips. "I look forward to your tutelage." 

**fh - fig x fabian x adaine**

Adaine's been at this desk for so long she thinks she may have sprouted roots. Finals season has swept her  _ hard _ and the monstrous cumulative-closed-book-no-notecard exam for her  _ Advanced Theory of Magical Syntax _ course is tomorrow afternoon. It's a graduate level that she took because it sounded interesting and she had the prerequisites but now she's seriously regretting not taking it credit/no credit. 

She's been furiously revising all morning now, only taking a few short breaks to stretch her legs by pacing around her dorm room and refill her water bottle. Fabian shows up at twelve-thirty from his  _ Survey of Bardic Traditions _ course with a bag of food and a polite knock at her door. "Study break," he says firmly, giving her a lingering kiss. 

"Give me five minutes, I'm nearly done with this module," Adaine says. She really is almost through, there's just one more practice exercise. 

"Study. Break." Fabian says, slapping her laptop shut and pulling her out of her chair against his chest. She grumbles in protest, but allows herself to be walked over to the bed and settled against the pillows. He hands her a burrito and some napkins and settles in beside her, sitting perpendicular so their legs tangle together. It's nice to settle in against him while he tells her about his morning classes. The tension in her lower back seeps away and she devours her lunch. Adaine hadn't even realized how hungry she was. 

"So am I your favorite boyfriend or what?" He asks, leaning in her doorway as he's about to head out for dance class. 

"Don't let Fig hear you saying that," she teases, giving him one last kiss. They're in an ongoing competition over who's the better boyfriend. Adaine can't say she understands it (why can't they be each other's favorite boyfriend? Adaine's not running for the position?), but she's not complaining about having their attention as they try to out-romance each other. 

He pouts and grins all at once. "Good luck with your studying." 

She returns to her textbooks. It's still hard, but maybe it's a little easier with a full stomach and a little rest. Fig shows up at three, bursting through the door to Adaine's dorm room carrying two guitar cases, an amp, and her backpack. "Hey," she says, draping herself over Adaine and smooching her cheek. "You can keep working, I'm here to hang out and work on my Common paper." 

"Okay," Adaine says, only glancing up from her work enough to note that Fig's wearing a sweatshirt that Adaine's been looking for for almost two weeks now. "Is that my hoodie?" 

Fig makes a guilty face. "Yeah...but doesn't it look so cute on me?" 

It does. 

"Adorable," Adaine promises. "I was just looking for it." 

"You can have one of mine," Fig says. She nudges Adaine over so she can plug her charger into the power cord at Adaine's feet. "Wouldn't want you getting cold." She winks at Adaine and gives her one last kiss before scooting up onto her bed with her laptop. 

They work in comfortable silence for a few hours, until the light from the windows has dimmed and they should really start putting on the lamps. "Okay, dinner time," Fig says, snapping her laptop shut. She flops onto her back on Adaine's bed and makes grabby hands to get Adaine to join her, which is the opposite of getting up to go to the dining hall. 

"Yeah, okay," Adaine says, because this module is going incredibly poorly and she's starting to get prickles of frustration down her spine. She moves to sit on the edge of her bed and Fig glomps onto her side in a hug. "Fabian texted, he'll meet us at McCarthy Hall in ten."

"But that's so  _ farrr _ -"

"He says they have pierogies tonight."

Fig jolts up in bed. Her hair is rumpled and she looks very cute. "Okay, shit, let's get going then." 


	4. trope prompts

**fig/ayda Playing with their hair while their head’s in your lap.**

Ayda's hair can't burn Fig because she's a Prince Of Hell, duh. Instead it feels like sinking her hands into warm water, or like the paraffin bath at the nail salon. She has to be careful not to disrupt Ayda's curl pattern. Beneath the flames Ayda's hair is short and tightly coiled, and Fig sinks her fingers in wide and gently scritches her nails against her scalp. 

Ayda is curled into her lap, face pressed against her stomach so her wings have space to spread out behind her off the edge of the couch. She doesn't like having her wings touched, and Fig respects that, even though she knows from the occasional accidental brush that they're smooth as silk and cooler than the rest of her. It's nice and quiet in the den of Mordred, helped along by the small wards Ayda set up to block out noise and to remind anyone who comes to bother them of a sudden urgent task on the far side of the house. Her girlfriend (girlfriend!) is really just so clever like that.

**#15 for pete/ricky/esther? (Drunkenly confessing feelings)**

"Pete," Esther says, extremely serious and extremely drunk. The music in the club is blasting and the LED strobes are glittering off of her sparkly silver top. She's holding his face in her hands while they stand by the door to the bar as they wait for Ricky to close out their tab before they leave. "You're like, so hot."

Huh. Pete thought he was a lot more sober than this. "What?" He yells over the music. 

"You're, just, like," Esther says. She's still holding his face and one of her thumbs is rubbing against his jawline. "Really handsome. It's distracting! You're cute _and_ hot, like, _come on_." She's looking at him expectantly. 

"Um," Pete says. He looks over her shoulder for Ricky because Ricky doesn't drink and should probably be here for this. Or maybe not, this is probably just drunk Esther saying things and he shouldn't get her in trouble with Ricky. "Thanks. You're really pretty." 

She beams, but still looks at him like she's waiting for him to do something. He doesn't quite know what. "You really think so?" 

"Uh, yeah," Pete says, which is true. It's not weird to say that your extremely taken good friend and secret crush is pretty. Probably. 

"You should probably do something about it," she says. Jeez, they're really standing close together huh, and she's looking up the inch of height difference up at him with glowing brown eyes and a beautiful smile. Ricky needs to get back here before Pete ruins two friendships and a perfectly good relationship.

"What about -?" He can't even really finish the question. She tilts her head and looks confused at him, and then he can see her drunk brain doing math and she sighs and rolls her eyes. 

"Ricky _knows,_ silly!" She takes a half step closer (Pete didn't think that was even possible). Their faces are really close and he can smell the tequila on her breath as she leans up close to whisper against his mouth, "You know, he thinks you're pretty cute too." 

**3 for fabriz (I’m dying and I’m confessing my love for you ) or**

"The Ball," Fabian wheezes. His chest feels tight and horrible. "Come here. I'm dying. This is my deathbed."

"No," Riz says. He's standing across the room, "You're so fucking sick, I'm not catching that shit. Here's your homework, hope you feel better, _goodbye_."

"Love you," Fabian mumbles, before rolling over and falling back asleep.

**ricky/esther for 41 (Overhearing they have feelings for you)**

Esther's meeting at the chantry with Kingston and his team in five minutes, so she saves the funding proposal she was working on and heads down to the lounge from her second floor office. She pauses in the kitchenette off the main room to reup her coffee mug. While she's waiting for the Keurig, she can hear Ricky, Pete, and Sofie come in. They're loud, as always, just about bursting with life, and they bring with them a gust of freezing December air through the front door of the chantry. 

"Don't be a wuss," Sofie's saying, and Esther can hear the click of her heels on the hardwood and the jingle of her purse. "You like her, so go do something about it. You think me and Dale got together by staring wistfully at each other from across the room? Fuck no. You gotta go get what you want, bud." 

She's probably talking about Pete. Poor guy seems to be a bit of a mess when it comes to dating."She was looking at your ass, bro." Okay, so it's Ricky's love life? She rips open a few little packets of sugar with a bit more force than is necessary, and it scatters everywhere. Shit. "More than most people look at it, and it was like, _romantic_."

Ricky mumbles something and she can't hear it because she's trying to quietly sweep up the mess she made. Esther feels like, a little bad eavesdropping. This mystery girl that Ricky likes and might like him back is really truly none of her business. 

She can hear Pete sigh and the noise of someone dropping dramatically onto a couch. "Look. You're hot. Esther's hot. You're both clearly into each other, so go _do something_ or at least stop looking like a sad little puppy all the time, okay? It's depressing." 

Esther doesn't quite drop her coffee, but it's a near thing. 

**50 for best friends tracker and ragh? I’m scared but won’t admit it so you take my hand**

"Bro, this sucks," Ragh says. He looks enormous sitting on the rickety patient table in the local apothecary shop that houses the town doctor for this backwoods little village. His shirt's off, and there's a nasty barbed arrow sticking out of the meat of his shoulder. Tracker is  _ extremely _ glad to not be him right now. 

The doctor, a plump elven woman with a mess of grey hair, returns holding frankly the biggest syringe Tracker's ever seen. "Alright, dear," she says, flicks the tube to get rid of air bubbles. "This will knock you out so I can get in there to remove the arrowhead."

Ragh looks a little greener than usual, and while Tracker doesn't  _ want _ to get any closer to this crazy elf lady and her giant needle, she's not going to let a bro suffer alone. She moves to stand behind him and squeezes his hand and very much Does Not Look as the nurse gives him the shot. "Be there when you wake up, dude," she promises, but he's already knocked the fuck out, slumping face-first onto the table. 


End file.
